


no stop signs (nobody's gonna slow me down)

by ohmyloki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyloki/pseuds/ohmyloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 'Tony the Mechanic' AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no stop signs (nobody's gonna slow me down)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this thing sitting in my WIP folder for... months. Unfortunately with the big bang going on and me actually trying to get something finished in a timely manner, this has fallen to the wayside. I do intend to pick it up and finish it (I hadn't planned on it being very long in the first place) when all is said and done, but I shared what I had with Tumblr the other day and thought I might as well share it on here as well.

Tony sees the car pull in around back and his eyes widen. He is abruptly all too aware of the state of his appearance. He’s covered in grease, some dirt, and maybe even a little blood from when he dropped the wrench on his face earlier. He finds himself immobile, struck dumb by all of the things he needs to move and fix and clean that the overload of choices and decisions to be made render him completely inert.

The sound of the car door closing snaps him out of it but it’s too late to do any major clean up and fuck it, it’s a garage anyhow it’s not _supposed_ to be clean. But, oh god, Steve Rogers is walking up to the door and Tony feels like he needs to do _something_ to look more presentable so he grabs the rag he had just discarded and wipes at his forehead and the bridge of his nose. He tosses it back over to the work table and runs a hand through his hair, which is probably a lost cause, and hears the tinkle of the bell over the door.

The way the shop is set up Tony has just enough time to grab something and make himself look busy before Steve will round the corner and see him. He grabs a screwdriver and hunches over the table, pretending to be hard at work on the lump of metal currently sitting there. It isn’t long before he hears someone clear their throat.

“Excuse me?”

Tony glances up, the picture of surprise. He sets down the screwdriver and grabs the rag again, wiping at his hands. “Can I help you?”

Steve shoves both his hands in his pockets, looking strangely bashful and a little boyish, even if those pants should be relegated to someone fifty years his senior. “Are you Tony? The mechanic?”

Tony raises an eyebrow and gives a pointed look around the garage. A couple of cars currently being rebuilt, one up on the lift, another sitting with it’s hood popped open, scraps of metal, not to mention the strange little bundles of wires and gears strewn about. He turns back to Steve and smirks a little. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

A lovely shade of pink takes residence on Steve’s well sculpted cheekbones and he rubs the back of his neck ruefully. “I was having some car trouble and I asked around at work and everyone pointed me in your direction.”

Tony narrows his eyes and gives Steve a once over, like he’s trying to place him. “Steve Rogers, right? New Sergeant at the PD?” He really should get an Oscar for his performance right now.

A flash of surprise crosses Steve’s face before he smiles a little shyly. “I keep forgetting what living in a small town is like.”

Tony nods. “Everyone knows everything about everyone. Trust me, you’ll learn that lesson quickly, especially when you faceplant naked in the mayor’s yard.”

Steve’s eyes widen comically. “What? Fury’s yard?”

Tony just grins. “I’m sure you’ll hear about it before long. It’s been nearly a decade but they sure as hell don’t let me forget.”

“Right.”

Tony walks around to the front of the table and claps his hands together, standing a few feet in front of Steve. “So what’s the problem?”

Steve gives him an odd look before responding. “Well, my blinker quit working.”

“Did you check the bulb?”

“Yeah, yeah. I figured out how to replace it but that didn’t fix it.”

“Did you check the fuse?”

“Um, no. I just--I talked to one of my lieutenants and he said it sounded like it might be out of blinker fluid--”

Oh god, did he just say _blinker fluid_? Tony felt his attraction to the man fade slightly. Slightly as if saying a rockslide on Mount Everest reduced the overall mass of the mountain slightly.

“--and that I should take the car to a mechanic, and then he said you were the best one he knew and you’d be able to fix it up no problem. Seems to be the consensus around the department, too. You must really know your stuff, some of those guys are awful attached to their cars but they seem to really like you.”

Tony lets himself preen at the compliment for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve helped out the department a few times.”

Steve gives him a curious look.

Tony shrugs. “There was a rash of people having their cars stolen. Turns out some idiot gang from the next town over was trying to sell them for parts. I lent a couple of my modified cars for a sting operation. Let me tell you, those boys were not prepared for what happened to them when they tried to take one of my cars apart without permission.”

Recognition dawns in Steve’s eyes. “The Wrecking Crew? Those were your cars?”

Tony smiles and winks. “I’m not just another pretty face, Sarge.”

Steve’s cheeks turn that wonderful color again and Tony hopes he’ll get more chances in the future to try to coerce those blushes out of him. He must have an Irish background with how easily his face colors, Tony thinks. Then he wonders if he were to get up close if he’d see a pleasant smattering of freckles over his nose. Those would certainly be fodder for his fantasies later on.

He decides to give the guy a break and changes the subject. “Let’s see about your car, yeah?”

“You sure you have the time right now? I could always come back later, I can manage without the blinker for a few more days.”

“Free as a bird. Don’t want you stuck in the past using those silly hand signals.” And Tony knows just from looking at him that Steve is exactly the kind of man who would willingly look like a dork if it meant doing the right thing.

Tony leads the way out of the shop and has Steve pop the hood so he can check the fuse panel. He feels Steve hovering behind him as he works and it’s a simple process, really, but he still finds himself narrating what he’s doing because no one should go around thinking that blinker fluid is actually a thing that exists.

“Ah, yep. This thing is definitely blown. No worries, though, I’ve got a few hundred spares.” He winks at Steve as he heads back into the garage and rummages through one of the drawers looking for the replacement.

He catches sight of himself in a rather highly polished piece of metal sitting on a table and stops short. He groans out loud at his reflection, realizing the rag he used earlier to wipe his face off must have been dirtier than he though because there is a gigantic black smear across his forehead. He’s struck again by a moment of indecision. There was no way Steve could have missed that and if he were to clean it off now it might looked like Tony cares too much about what Steve thinks but he _does_ care what Steve thinks and that just means Tony is now talking himself in circles about whether or not to clean a smudge off his forehead.

He might have a problem. A six foot two, over two hundred pound problem.


End file.
